The Hunter
by MissAmyCat
Summary: They will never know it was us," the harsh whisper seemed promising in the darkness. "Are you sure?," the young, golden-haired woman asked. "Absolutely," the voice reassured, "only she will know, but she cannot tell anyone if she's dead." Barnabas/Angelique; somewhat A/U; rating will change to M.


**Hi everyone!  
I cannot believe it has been over two years since I have written something that wasn't an essay! My writing style has changed so much! Truth be told, I strongly dislike my old style now. I feel like my writing has gotten much better, but maybe not.  
I wanted to write another story for ****_Dark Shadows_** **because it is still one of my favorite movies. This story has a similar plot structure in which Barnabas returns from overseas, but there will be different aspects to it as well. I really hope this story isn't boring or too weird! I also hope it doesn't seem like I am copying anyone else's plot structure. If it seems as though I am, please tell me and I will change it.  
Again, this story is dedicated to AngeliqueBouchard1972, one of my favorite authors. **

**Disclaimer: These always make me sad! I wish I owned the characters! Sadly, I do not. I am just using them for now.**

 ** _"_** ** _When a storm is coming, all other birds seek shelter. The eagle alone, avoids the storm by flying above it. So, in the storms of life, may your heart soar like an eagle." –Unknown_**

The warm vermillion sun slowly ascended the light winter sky—pale colors of blue, pink, violet, and yellow painted across it. It was unheard of to see such beautiful colors in December; the weather was usually dark and gloomy during the colder months. Black and grey chickadees sat atop the snow-covered roof of the grand manor, seemingly unaffected by the cold nipping at their feet.  
As the sun rose higher, beams of light flickered against the pastel blue curtains. The sunbeams gently flooded the room, shining brightly on a young girl of sixteen, who lay upon a comfortless bed, with only a thin cotton blanket to keep warm. The girl shifted, slowly sitting upright and placing her feet on the chilly wooden floorboards. Standing up, she hurried towards the old wooden dresser sitting in the corner of the small room. The young girl slipped on a light grey dress, fastening the corset at her waist. She put on her flat, but uncomfortable shoes, then left the room. She crept down the rickety old staircase hidden next to the boiler room that led to the kitchen. The girl pushed open the door, and was struck in the face by the scent of rising bread and freshly made jams.  
"Angelique, you're early this morning," a soft voice called from the other side of the kitchen, closest to the ovens.  
The girl, who was known as Angelique, gave a slight smile and nodded her head. She only spoke when it was demanded of her. Angelique was known in the household for having a shy temperament. She often had a difficult time looking anyone in the face, even if she felt comfortable with them.  
Glancing briefly at the platters of food, Angelique lifted a pitcher of juice from an unknown fruit, then left the kitchen. As she neared the breakfast room, she heard excited whispers from around the corner. She looked around, searching for the cause of all the fuss. Several maids rushed past her and into the kitchen, one pausing to gently usher her into the next room.  
Angelique entered the breakfast room and briefly glanced up. Nothing seemed out of place. However, she felt something, a shift in the atmosphere. It seemed rather serene, as if she were in the garden, a place where nothing mattered, a place where she could breathe.  
The room was silent, which Angelique found unusual. On any other day, the harsh (and somewhat obnoxious) sound of chatter could be heard from the boiler room.  
Setting the juice down on a small Cherry-wood table adjacent to a glass armoire containing blue and white china dishes, Angelique looked up once again, to find a pair of dark eyes staring, or rather _glaring,_ at her.  
Joshua Collins hated Angelique with a passion. Ever since she had returned from France four months ago, he put forth the effort he normally used for his career into creating as much work for her as possible. If she passed him in the hallways or on the main stairway, he would intentionally brush up against her shoulder, just hard enough for her to stumble. He constantly reminded her of her lower status, taunting her. Angelique believed that he was angry for her three-year absence. Naomi had been kind enough to permit Angelique's departure to France to visit her dying grandmother. She knew they held a close bond and as any kind-hearted person might do, allowed Angelique to spend some time with what was left of her family.  
Angelique quickly glanced away, but again looked up as she felt the same tranquil presence as she had moments before. Another set of eyes bore into hers. These however, were the eyes of someone she had not seen in five years. They held an air of arrogance to them, but they did not look down upon her.  
Taking in the rest of the figure's appearance, Angelique bit her lip to stifle to gasp.  
"Barnabas," she whispered as quietly as she could.  
Even then, he seemed to hear her, when no one else did. He slightly smiled, then turned his attention towards his parents.  
Angelique excused herself from the room. Once in the long hallway, she exhaled. She had not realized that she had been holding her breath. She could not believe he was back. She hated to admit it, but she had missed him. After all, he had been her friend.  
"That was years ago," Angelique thought to herself. "He likely wants nothing to do with me."  
If she had been paying more attention, she would have noticed his intake of breath when he looked at her.  
Though she had no idea, he had missed her as much as she had missed him, if not more.

 ** _"_** ** _I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched." –Edgar Allan Poe_**

 **Okay, so that was my first chapter. Please let me know what you think of it, if you want to. Also, I would love your help with ideas of what should happen next! If this story is terrible, please tell me how I can make it better. I love constructive criticism!**


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